


What's To Happen All Happened Before

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Mary Poppins (1964)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-22
Updated: 2007-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-25 03:29:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1629146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He blinked and rubbed his eyes. But those were the facts; there had been a woman and now there wasn't, and he'd seen her fly up into that cloud or his name was not Bert.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's To Happen All Happened Before

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to CJK, Truth, technosage, and everyone else who helped with the Britspeak.
> 
> Written for Lexie

 

 

The first time he saw her was in the park. He was drawing his chalk art on the pavement for the day. She had three children with her, somehow keeping a firm grasp on the jackets of each one. They were all watching the ducks, and the tallest child was throwing small pieces of biscuit into the pond. Suddenly all the ducks leapt out of the pond and into the air, quacking loudly. He paused in his pavement drawing to watch them circle up into the sky and disappear behind a cloud. When he looked down, she was nowhere to be seen. He stood up quickly and looked around trying to see her, when a flash of black and pink caught his eye above. He looked up just in time to see her and the children disappear behind the same cloud the ducks had flown in to.

He blinked and rubbed his eyes. But those were the facts; there had been a woman and now there wasn't, and he'd seen her fly up into that cloud or his name was not Bert.

***

The second time he saw her was a week later when he went to sweep the Johnson's chimney. As he spread sheets over the furniture, she passed by in the hall with her charges and looked back at him over her shoulder. He stumbled over his own feet and knocked a brush over, but caught it before it hit the carpet. When he looked at her to see if she noticed, she wasn't looking, but her mouth was curved up at the corners. 

On his way out she passed by him again and said, very quietly, "I have every second Tuesday off."

His feet would hardly stay on the pavement all the way up the street.

***

Although Monday had been blustery, Bert had held out hope for Tuesday being fair. But Tuesday dawned blustery and grey, and by the time he and Mary met on the sidewalk that evening drops of rain were starting to fall. He gallantly took her old black umbrella and opened it for her, but a gust of wind plucked it out of his hand and sent it bowling down the street. He stared at her helplessly.

"Oh, well that's just not right!" she said crossly. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Me?" Bert said, looking guiltily after the umbrella. "Nothin', it just--"

"And what gave you that bright idea?" Mary said. She wasn't looking at Bert at all. "Yes, but that's not the way to go about it. Well I don't know why they said that! Yes, that's certainly true. Yes, thank you, it's the least you could do." She took his arm and suddenly they were both off the ground, rising into the sky faster and faster. Bert tore his eyes off the rapidly receding street below. The wind whipped around their feet but didn't disturb a hair on Mary's head.

Suddenly they were above the clouds, the stars shining clearly and calmly above them. The clouds were white at their feet, puffy and soft.

" _Blimey_ ," Bert said reverently.

"It is, isn't it," Mary said softly. 

They smiled at each other for a moment, until Bert had to look away. 

"Well, and I 'aven't offered you a seat!" He let go of Mary and gathered up some of the cloud at their feet, piling it up into a chair. He gallantly offered his arm to her and she took it, laughing as he sat her down and took a seat next to her. They looked out at the stars.

"Ain't this a view," Bert said quietly. She smiled back at him.

***

A week of Tuesdays have gone by, and Bert thought she was more beautiful than ever. They'd gone walking in the park, dancing, boating, trapeze-flying (due to a singularly convincing circus master) and deep-sea diving (due to a special invitation from King Poseidon himself--there was a bit of a mess with a sea-horse and Bert's trousers and obscure rules of combat in the presence of the King, but Mary seemed to have forgiven him).

It was a fine Tuesday, and Bert walked her down his latest row of pavement drawings, giving her the tour like it was the Royal Academy. Down at the end, he fell silent. The last drawing was a detailed illustration of a velvet box. 

"It's very nice, Bert," Mary said softly, looking down at the chalk.

He hesitated, but reached out to take her hands. "There's a ring inside that box, Mary, with a stone as big as all of London. An' it's yours, if--if you want it. If you'll take it."

Softly but firmly, Mary said, "No, Bert."

"Oh." He let go of her hands. "Well. I wasn't expectin' you to say that, quite." 

"I'm leaving soon," she said. "The wind's from the west and it's time for me to go."

"Oh, but--leavin'? You don't 'ave to--I won't--I'm sorry if I--"

"It's not you, Bert," she said, but she didn't look at him. "It's time. You'll look in on my Uncle Albert for me, and I'll leave instructions with Andrew not to walk on your drawings."

"It's not me. Right." Bert turned away, but turned back quickly. "I'd set you up real nice, Mary. A cottage with a nice fireplace, and I'd clean the chimney every week. We could 'ave pork chops on Sundays."

"Oh, Bert." Mary fussed with her gloves. "Pork chops? And what will we pay for them with? Tuppence? Will you go into the banking business?"

"I can do it, Mary, I'll-- I'll sell chestnuts! I'll start a one-man band!" 

She shook her head, but still wouldn't meet his eyes. "Bert, you're an artist, a chimney-sweep, a kite-maker. You do what you like and you like what you do, and oh, Bert, I couldn't take that away from you." She finally raised her head, her eyes sad and knowing. "But Bert, I'll be back when the wind changes."

And with that he was content, for many, many years. 

 


End file.
